


A Slice of Normal

by Blue_The_Huntress



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Bloodhound Headcanons (Apex Legends), Body Image, Canon Non-Binary Character, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gift Giving, I'm Bad At Tagging, Knives, M/M, Massage, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nicknames, One Shot Collection, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Stress Relief, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-01-04 09:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21195128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_The_Huntress/pseuds/Blue_The_Huntress
Summary: Sometimes, all we need is a little bit of something normal in our hectic lives. Those who participate in a bloodsport deserve it most, in your opinion.





	1. Out of Character (Caustic/Reader)

When your lover comes straight to you after the post-game announcement, you knew _something _was up. 

Alexander Nox seldom comes straight home after a match. 

When you're checking your phone for his signature ‘I’m in the lab’ text, the door to your shared apartment opens. 

“A-Alex-!” 

You’re unprepared, dressed in a slim, wrinkled tank top and a pair of grey sweats stained with grass, sauce, and Cheeto dust. Standing, you take a couple of stumbling steps toward him. However, once he starts removing his gear, you pause. He prefers to be independent, after all. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be home early.” To add to your surprise, he just drops everything by the front door instead of carefully placing everything in its place. 

Once he’s decent, in only his undershorts and mask, he makes his way to you. His strides are long and determined, frightening you slightly. When you step back slightly, he tears off his mask. It _ ‘clunk’ _s to the coffee table as his muscular arms grasp your thighs. 

He’s a head taller than you and almost twice as wide. His shadow seems to engulf you as his imposing form stands before you. He lifts you so that he has to look up to catch your gaze. 

Whatever surprised sound you would’ve made is swallowed by him as he connects his lips to your own. 

Now, you’ve been with this man for the better part of a year. He has _never _initiated physical affection. Whatever is going on, it seems so out of character for your lover, especially since _this _is so much softer than almost anything Alexander Nox was behind.

The kiss is fragile, weak. Even the way he holds you; one arm under your backside and his other hand on your thigh to keep it on his hip. You break it gently, and he follows you like a desperate man. Hands curling into his long, brown locks at the nape of his neck, you pet him there. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask. 

Gazing over him, you see new bruises and scratches along the majority of his body. Once your eyes meet his green ones, he buries his head into your shoulder, breathing deeply. 

“No. That is unnecessary.” 

You’re set gently down on the bed, briefly wondering when you got here. For a moment, you allow yourself to ponder it before the bed dips down next to you and you’re quickly pulled into his lap. 

Alexander’s hands slide gently under your top as his bearded chin rests on your shoulder. Warm flesh contrasts with the two, cool metal fingers on his left hand. You gasp at the sensation, your own hands grasping his thighs on either side of you. He’s gentle, kneading and massaging like he’s committing the way it feels under his hands to memory. 

It’s… a tender moment that’s out of character for your boyfriend. Of course, it’s nice, but everything that’s going on right now feels so odd that you can’t focus on it. 

“Alex, what’s going on?”

“You’re… pleasant.” True to form, he avoids your gentle prying, his fingers pressing into your ribs. “Aesthetically pleasing _ and _ tolerable.” 

His hands caress your sensitive sides, a warm shudder coursing through your veins. “High praise.” You breathe, unable to do much else. Unable to focus on your task of getting him to open up, you lean back into him. 

His grip on you tightens. “It is.” He replies. “Especially from someone fundamentally better than most.”

Whatever tension he’d had within him when he walked in seems to ease away as his hands explore your body. Only rarely does he take the time to appreciate it, and a bad game with close to no new results feels like the right occasion to him. And, as much as he would deny the fact as it was presented to him, he genuinely enjoyed almost everything that had to do with you. Your body, your intellect, your _care_. 

It might kill him to no longer have you care about him and his well-being. 

Exhaustion from so many restless nights of sleep starts to settle in, so you close your eyes and relish in his warmth. At the same time, you refuse to let the moment end, shaking yourself up when you start dozing.

Alexander feels your breathing attempt to slow as you fight sleep. He’s lost track of the number of times he’s found you asleep on the couch as you waited for him. He also knows how many times you wake up in the middle of the night; your fidgeting manages to wake him almost every time.

“Breathe deep.” He orders softly, adjusting so he can pick you up properly. You’re nodding off into his chest, breathing in slow and deep as he does with you. “Rest. I will be here when you awaken.” 

“... promise?” 

You’re already nodding off - a welcome sight to the scientist - when you ask this question. Before he even gets his reply out, your breaths even out and your head falls against his shoulder. 

“Yes.” 

You’re laid gently under the covers. As he tucks you in, he debates between lying with you and picking up his lab clothes. When you snuggle into his hand when he pets your hair, he decides that he can pick up the uniform in the morning. 

Caustic would never admit it, not even to you, but the stable, domestic relationship he had with you eased all of his stress and worries. Things most would consider ‘normal’ in a loving relationship were his way of ‘curing’ both you and himself of daily stresses. And, the results end up positive for the most part. 

So, as he lies next to you, watching your sleeping face, he reminds himself that he will have you there to ease his stress for the foreseeable future. And vice-versa. 

He slides you closer, allowing you to rest against him. Content this way, he allows his mind to roam to his work, letting the sense of normalcy drag him into the depths of sleep.


	2. Nicknames (Bloodhound/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their nickname for you means so much to you.  
Yours comes from the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Headcanon heavy! If that isn’t your style, move right along, please! **

“_ Breathe, elskan. _” 

You didn’t realize you’d been holding it. There’s so much to concentrate on. Their hand on your back, your knuckles brushing your cheekbone, and the skittish animal over 100 meters away. 

It isn’t this that has you sensitive to their touch. After all, why should you be nervous about something you’ve done so many times before? 

Bloodhound has been training you on how to use a bow properly over a year because you’d asked them to show you what they found to be normal. You’ve learned a lot; how to use a bow, how to step lightly, and how to climb. And, you’d be lying if you said that this hasn’t been fun. 

No, it’s the pendants against your neck that have you almost quaking. 

Exhaling, you let go of the arrow. 

The bowstring snaps against your leather-clad arm. You can feel the protection presses against your skin. 

Your arrow hits its mark, felling the bunny in one strike. 

“Strong work.” 

Their hand travels up, squeezing your right shoulder as they brush past you. 

You can’t help but stare as they walk past, giving you an eyeful of their face. The left side of their red hair shaved and the rest is a gentle combination of tiny braids and natural waves. Scars, both large and small adorn their face, including one which blinded their right eye. Plain steel piercings on their ears and collarbones reflect the setting sun as it filters through the trees. Their muscle t-shirt shows just enough of their unevenly toned skin. Odd patches of skin are lighter than the others, unevenly sized and spaced across their body. 

They’re so beautiful. 

After them, you follow just a step behind. They crouch beside it, murmuring a prayer in their native language. 

Your heart races as you watch them, their low voice sending chills down your spine. 

_ ‘Elskan’,_ they call you. They whisper it into your skin almost nightly, doubled the night you asked them to show you their normal. “It means ‘my love’.” They told you when you asked. 

Unfortunately, your native tongue has been mostly lost to the ages, your people content to live in solitude light years away from the planet you’re on now. With how long you’ve been away, some of it has lost most meaning to you. You won't ever forget it, no, but you’ve stopped bothering to use it because translating became too much of a hassle. 

So, you go with something simple as you take off the pendant you’re going to give them, revealing your own at the same time.

“H-Hound?” 

“Yes, _ elskan _?” They turn their head to face you, their eyes focused solely on you.

Knees sinking into the soft earth, your hands clasp the pendant. They watch you carefully. 

“_ A- Ane ma vhenan _.” 

You hold out your hands, revealing a small wooden carving of half a heart. Perfectly smooth and rounded, stained and protected in a layer of resin. Their gaze flickers to the matching one on your chest before they meet your own. 

Timid under their intense look, your face flushes. “‘You are m-my heart’.” You say. “So, I w-want to give you something from it.” 

Their fingers brush gently over your palm as they take the pendant from you, breathing out words you don’t understand. They put it on, practically beaming with a smile. 

At their enthusiasm, you chuckle. “I love you, _ vhenan. _” You say, shuffling closer to them. 

Showing their canines as they grin, they caress your cheek before planting a chaste kiss on your lips. 

“And I, you.”


	3. Appreciation (Mirage/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MEN   
DESERVE  
LOVE  
AND   
AFFECTION  
They’re not appreciated enough!   
You can’t change my mind!

The Apex Games take a lot out of the participants. You know this first-hand; dating a Legend comes with this as one of its perks. Elliott “Mirage” Witt, in all of his fan-loving, funky glory, is no exception. 

Even so, today, your lover makes his way home and only has the energy for a soft wave and a “Hey” as he heads to the bedroom. After a moment, you follow after him, popping into the bedroom after he flops onto the bed. He didn’t even take off his gear! 

“Elliott?” You murmur, padding over to his side of the bed while gently brushing your hand over his body. 

He hums, his brown eyes meeting your concerned gaze through his eyelashes. Petting through his curls while you remove his goggles gives you a relieved sigh as he relaxes some under your touch. 

“Do you want anything?” You ask. 

“...” He takes a moment to think about it. “Sleep.” He mutters eventually. 

The two of you share a chuckle as you sit down next to him, continuing to run your hand along his back. “Anything I can help with, I mean?” 

“Not really, babe.” Elliott replies. 

… 

You genuinely doubt that. 

Instead of saying that, though, you smile softly and turn around so that you’re kneeling by his side.

“C’mon.” You nudge him over slightly. “I’m gonna get you out of these clothes. They can’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

He does manage to scoot over despite his arms shaking as they hold his weight. After, he simply flops back down with a sigh as you move to kneel on the bed beside him. 

For the next five minutes, you wiggle an uncooperative, sleepy Legend from his arena gear. If you’re honest, though, it’s not too bad; he doesn’t feel as heavy as you thought he would. That might be because you’ve been going to the gym in your free time over the past couple of months, but that’s not important right now. Either way, once he’s in just his compression shorts, you take a moment to meet his gaze. 

His honey eyes and adoring smile almost make you melt. “Hey.” He breathes out in his sleepy voice. 

You smile, petting his curls from his eyes. After a moment, you sit back up and straddle him, knees on either side of his hips. 

“Whoa!” Elliot perks up quickly, his fingers wrapping around your thighs. 

Laughing, you stroke his arms. “El, I’m just gonna give you a massage. You are  _ not _ up for that right now.” 

He ignores your comment, tracing the back of your thighs. “Have you been working out?” 

“... Yeah.” 

Why are you nervous about that? Why? Elliot has always been both supportive  _ and _ appreciative of your body. Something is nagging at you that he might not enjoy it as much since you’ve started working out.

“Good! That’s great! I’m glad! As long as you’re happy with yourself, babe.” 

Of course, you have nothing to worry about. His voice is warm and proud as he pats your thighs before tucking his arms under the pillow. Unable to keep yourself from smiling, you start massaging his neck. “Thank you.” 

Elliott melts under your touch; as your thumbs press down on either side of his spine, he groans deeply, followed by a relieved sigh. It’s a cycle as you press into his tight muscles, focusing on his neck and thighs. Within minutes, he’s almost entirely relaxed, fighting off sleep. 

“There.” You say, pressing your face between his shoulders and hugging his middle. “Feel better?” 

“Tarem- Temr-“ He buries his face into his arms. “Loads.” It comes out muffled, but you’ve been with him long enough to know what he’d say.

You roll onto your side of the bed, which draws his honey gaze to yours again. “I gotta go turn off the lights.” You whisper. 

He chuckles sleepily watching you with half-lidded eyes. “Do your thing.” 

Begrudgingly, you hoist yourself into a sitting position and stand, stretching as you go to turn off the living room and bedroom lights. 

It only takes a minute but when you wander back into the bedroom, Elliot had moved himself under the covers and onto his side of the bed. You get in and lay down facing him. He rolls so that the two of you are almost chest to chest. 

“I wanna cuddle.” He murmurs.

This doesn’t surprise you; he’s very affectionate, after all. But usually he doesn’t even ask unless he wants to  _ be _ cuddled. Most of the time,  _ you’re _ the one being held against  _ his _ chest. 

“Aw, honey.” 

Scooting closer, you tuck his head under your chin. His arms wrap around your waist as one hand pets through his curls and the other rubs between his shoulders. 

You can tell that there’s a lot on his mind; he’s been rather quiet today. At the same time, you know for a fact that he’ll talk when he’s ready. He always does. For now, you do your best to make him feel loved. 

“I’ve got you.” You speak into his hair, pressing your lips against the top of his head. “I love you, Elliot.” 

His warm breath and vibrating thrum of his voice is indicative of his reciprocation. And with that, the two of you fall into a restful sleep.


	4. What We Enjoy (Wattson/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True love is watching them light up as they talk about things they enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, prolly gonna rewrite this with better detail but I needed to write down the general idea. I still like it, tho.

”What is that?  _ Un couteau _ ?” 

Natalie's incredibly small body cuddles up next to yours, her gaze enamored by the reflection in the light. She guesses that you've spent most of your night in the shop, judging by the tank top and shorts you wear after showering. 

It's a knife, deep black with a waving blade. Its grip is leather - also stained black - with an ebony guard. There's a rubber protector on the blade tip to keep you from harming yourself. The blade, silver where it's been sharpened, is almost hypnotizing as you twirl it between your two index fingers. 

”Bloodhound asked me to make them a blade of sacrifice.” 

Her gaze travels to your face as you allow her to tuck herself into your arm. You're looking over it repeatedly, twirling and scrutinizing your work. But whatever you're looking for is lost under awe as you smile. ”And I have to say that this might just be one of the best I've made so far.” 

Natalie giggles, curling up and nuzzling your chest. ”It looks  _ merveilleux, mon amour. _ ” She reaches up to gingerly take it from you. ”Maybe their Gods blessed you.” 

”Maybe.” You take a moment to grab the sheath you also prepared, making sure it matched. ”It honestly wouldn't surprise me any.” 

She tucks her blonde hair behind her ear before returning the knife to you. ”The handle is ebony, no? How much?” 

“To make?”

A hum is your affirmative response. 

”300 credits on the low end,” You reply, removing the rubber stopper before sheathing it. ”just for the handle. Add on the price of titanium, paint, leather, leather stain, and labor and you've got a pretty hefty price tag.” 

As much as you don't like the pricing of your supplies, you do enjoy figuring out how much you believe you should be paid. Everything is expensive and handcrafting is out of style these days; you like to pride yourself at about 20 credits an hour for your labor. However, you enjoy the process of making blades much more than the financial side, anyway.

”1,500?” Natalie can perform simple math quickly in her head. With how much you talk about the cost of supplies, she reaches a number rapidly.

”Yeah, just about.”

She watches you as you stand to put it in a place where you won't forget. Her eyes roam over your figure, a blush warming her cheeks.

You turn and catch her dreamy gaze, her face flushed as she stares at you. Blushing yourself - out of embarrassment rather - you shake your head. ”What?” 

”I like listening to you.” She murmurs, giggling. ”The  _ love _ , the passion!” Her soft squeal of excitement makes your heart race. ” _ Comme c'est mignon! _ It makes my heart race!” 

As Natalie speaks, you crawl into bed. ”Oh, really?” 

”Yes! I enjoy listening to you talk about things you like.” 

You're taller than her even with both of you on your knees. When she looks up at you with her bright, beaming smile, you press your forehead against her own. ”You should listen to how I talk about you.” 

Giggling as her face flushes deeper red, her blue gaze flickers sporadically between you and the room. 

You smile, planting your lips on her warm cheek. ”You're so cute, Nat. I love you~!” 

Her face scrunches. She shakes her head before burying her face into your chest, squealing. You laugh, embracing her and kissing the top of her head. ”I love you~.” you repeat, gently rocking her side to side. 

” _ Je t'aime aussi _ .” You feel her words against your chest as you run your fingers through her hair. 


End file.
